Here is a man born in between Heaven

And Earth to be, however, one

Who feels himself independent both

Of their Yin and Yang's essentialities.

Without the past or the future,

Only for the present a mere man,

But he will, sooner or later,

Return to the Yellow Spring.

Looking at him in his origin,

When his life begins, we have

But merely a jelly-like substance

In which the breath is collecting slowly

For the entire life winning.

Whether his lifetime be long

Or his death early,

How short, alas,

Is the distance between them!

It is but the name for a moment,

Insufficient to play the part

Of a good fortune or ill. . .

As they say, 'to each his own' --

One can do no more than he can.